Throughout this year I have written nothing about the election.  I have thought much about it, but kept those thoughts to myself and to a handful of closest friends.  With very few exceptions, I have voiced my electoral choices to nobody, and I will not do so here.  But this morning I thought of a few things I would like to say about this contentious election, and the hours in which to say them are growing few. 

These are one-off notes, written quickly and without revision; they are not in any way a narrative or an argument.  Importantly, I name no names here, and avow no side; I will make that claim silently tomorrow, with a ballot.  For what they are worth – and worthless perhaps they are – these are the only and last words I expect to write about the 2020 American election:

• In 1976, when only 19 years old (thanks to the 26^th Amendment, ratified only a few years earlier), I voted for the first time in my life.  I’ve voted many times since, wisely or foolishly, but each and every time I was convinced that I was incontrovertibly right in my choice. I wasn’t.  Looking back, I believe I would change more than a few of my votes.  Knowing I have been wrong often before, I can never forget that I can be wrong again.  I distrust any extravagant displays of absolute certainty and conviction because they discount the very real human capacity to make mistakes.
• I have lived through presidents I liked and disliked.  Some I look upon very differently now, and regret my favoring or disfavoring them when I was younger; that is humbling, because I know that both candidates are imperfect and fallible, and I may change my mind about either or both as I grow still older.  We are all voting for a temporal political executive, not a savior of the world.  I will hope for wisdom and good judgement from our next president, but I have lived through too many of them to let my expectations get far off the ground.
• Daily life will be little changed; we will scarcely notice once we resume the busy-ness and the scarcely controlled chaos of managing our lives.  I have lived happily and meaningfully through a dozen presidents (I was born the month after Eisenhower was elected to his second term), with scarcely any help or hindrance from any of them; not one helped me in times of struggle and loss; not one hindered me in times of prosperity and peace.  None of that will change with the next president.  I long ago learned that happiness or misery is for me to forge or succumb to; no president can or will change that.
• I believe that neither candidate deserves the worst of what is said by their detractors, nor the best that is claimed by their supporters.  Neither is Communist or bigot; neither is Nazi or racist; neither is evil, mendacious or corrupt beyond the bothersome low-grade fever infecting bureaucrats at all levels of our government.  Neither wishes death or disaster upon their fellow citizens.  Both, I believe, wish well for all American people, even when they are misguided about how to keep us well.
• I believe the same of the great majority of people who support each candidate: they are not fools or stupid or ignorant; they do not wish ill on their fellow citizens; they, too, will choose what they believe is best for the political leadership of our country.  How can I make that claim?  Is it pollyannaish or naïve?  Simple: I know many people in both camps, all of whom I respect and admire for their intelligence and good sense.  They have made thoughtful choices, with beneficent intent.  They are none of the rabid things that have been said or written about them.  They are my known statistical sample.  If this is so among my many friends, why should it not also be the case among most American citizens at large? 
• But certainly we have used politics to wound and insult others; I hope we forgive ourselves and learn to be better.
• Among my friends and family are many who agree or disagree with my choice. I love them all now and will continue to love them regardless of their politics.  I could not bear to part with any of them simply because they hold political views contrary to mine or support candidates I dislike.  Such a thing would condemn me far greater than it would them.  With few exceptions, I have not voiced my preference to them.  If we differ, I cannot change their minds; they are unlikely to change mine.  Most of all, I am not willing to risk the friendship in the effort; I am not willing to lose even one true friendship over a political election that will, once tempered by passing years, matter less and less.  My friends cheer and bolster me; they brighten and sustain my life.  Such affection and intimacy takes years to nurture and deepen; losing that would wound and impoverish me more than any president has or could do, and certainly more than any cheap satisfaction over “winning” an argument.  Politics is a cold and dispassionate companion; it is no source of human comfort, and a poor substitute for it.
• Now almost 64, I have lived through many American presidents; if I had my druthers, my choices this year would be very different than they are, but my druthers are used to being disappointed.  As men, I have little admiration for either candidate and no fondness at all. But then, I don’t particularly admire any president as a man since Lincoln, Grant and Eisenhower.  But one of the men on the ballot tomorrow will be the next president.  With or without my vote, he will be the chief executive of the country I love, chosen by the American people I love and live among.  I will grant him that respect and honor.  And I will be glad that, thanks to the wisdom of our Constitution, he will hold the office temporarily. Unlike kings or emperors, he will be replaced in due course, as all presidents are.  I will owe no fealty or servitude to him – Americans are not ruled, as a wise judge recently wrote – only the respect the office deserves from free citizens.  I promise to give that to the elected, no matter who it may be.  And I will wake the next morning with the same life to live, the daily knowledge that I must shape it on my own as best I can, with the help of loved ones who will sustain me and who I hope to sustain in turn.  The next president will pass in and out of my life, with little palpable effect, but my friends and family will endure.  I believe the same can be said of our country….

Can’t think of anything to add to this clever little quote from Glenn Reynolds regarding Michael Bloomberg’s expected entrance into the Democratic presidential primaries:

“Finally, someone is addressing the Democrats’ desperate shortage of old, white people who want to tell everyone how to live.”

Of late, I’ve read political comments to the effect that, due to the complexities of our society, America and Americans are ungovernable. The remark is usually made to excuse the president’s performance, or as justification for a large administrative state. I would like to think the condition exists because of the nature of the American spirit. I greet it with sincere welcome. Beyond obeying the basic laws of civil society, I wish to be ungovernable; and I wish all other Americans to have the same ambition. In fact, I think it a fine American tradition, and a noble goal to be ornery and difficult to govern.